Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

Her gaze was drawn to the huge owl she knew to be Julian, her lifemate, terrible to see in his role as destroyer. Touching his mind tentatively, she discovered he had pushed out all thought of her, was as ruthless and merciless as the most efficient predator. He attacked from every angle, again and again, swift, deadly, wearing down the evil one with every razor-sharp slash, every deep laceration, always driving for the heart.

The vampire had no chance to dissolve and escape, but his claws and tainted blood were doing immeasurable damage. Even in the shape of the owl, Julian was still severely injured by the first vampire’s surprise blow. She could see the feathered creature protecting one side, its wing never spreading its complete span. Desari realized he would have escaped even that blow if his only thought had not been of her. He was incredibly fast, moving like lightning, striking and moving, striking and moving, giving the ancient undead little chance to gather his energy and wield his considerable evil power.

Its howling was terrible to hear. The ugliness of it hurt her ears. She wanted to close her eyes, not see the dead and dying birds, the spray of blood shining black in the moonlight, hissing and sizzling as if it were alive.

She didn’t want to see the grotesque vampire, covered in blood, his straggly wisps of hair greasy with it, his eyes pits of it. The deep gouges on his face added to the horror of his hideous features. He was ragged and torn with a multitude of wounds, yet he refused to go down, refused to acknowledge he had no chance of survival.

On the ground the tainted blood was moving, stretching out across the vegetation to seek a victim. Everywhere it touched, plants withered and blackened in the moonlight. Then Desari realized the blood was following the large owl’s movements, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

The tiny spot where the vampire’s talon had pierced her neck was throbbing and swollen, as if his claw had been dipped in poison. If that tiny wound hurt her, what did Julian feel from his bone-deep slash? She could not imagine it and again she touched his mind, but she found he had blocked all pain so that his entire focus was on destroying the evil one.

Desari wanted to rush forward and gather up all the fallen birds that had aided Julian in the fight with the ancient undead. Wounded as he was, he had no choice but to accept their help, yet she knew instinctively that he would feel sorrow over the destruction of such beautiful creatures.

Her heart ached for Julian, for her brother, for all those who had to fight and destroy a living entity. She knew the undead were wholly evil, that the only thing to do was rid the planet of them, yet those forced to do so risked their lives and, worse, their very souls, while they did so.

Desari attempted to calm herself, so that her mind was not in turmoil, so that it contained only confidence and strength. Then she sent herself into Julian’s mind, giving him the rush of energy her ancient blood and power could supply. She was incapable of killing, could not end a life—compassion ran too deeply in her—but she prayed that she did not impede Julian’s ability to do so.

Julian was grateful for the strength pouring into him. He had suffered tremendous blood loss, and the tainted blood of the vampire contacting his skin through the owl’s feathers was burning deeply into his flesh. Still, he never hesitated but continued his relentless attack, beating back the powerful undead with his talons, driving deeper and deeper into the chest wall. Only when he was beyond the protective muscle and bone did he shape-shift back to his own body, his mind reaching for the remaining owls to release them of the compulsion to attack.

Desari gasped, her hand going to her throat as she saw the blobs of tainted blood on the ground rush together to form a large pool. The blackened liquid began to obscenely form the parody of an arm, then stretched farther into a diabolical, shadowy hand that began to furtively crawl across pine needles and over fallen branches to reach its goal. Julian, on the ground!